


I Know // I Don't

by severity_softly



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: ALL THE TRIGGER WARNINGS, M/M, Reference to Incest, Reference to Pedophilia, i am dying of feelings, omg this was supposed to be a couple hundred words of genfic, reference to underage, send help, this is captive prince duh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 19:04:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10646121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severity_softly/pseuds/severity_softly
Summary: The morning after he took Ios with Damen, Laurent has something he needs to attend to.





	I Know // I Don't

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS FOR WARNINGS. 
> 
> Originally posted at my Captive Prince roleplay blog on Tumblr, [castironbxtch](https://castironbxtch.tumblr.com/). :)

Laurent woke slowly, dimly aware of the light filtering into the room. He hadn't slept so heavily in… years, he realized. For a long time now, his body was so programmed for fight or flight that it almost didn't let him ever fully sleep. It was utter exhaustion that had led him to collapse next to Damen, unwashed, in a blood soaked chiton, on top of the covers. Exhaustion and the sudden knowledge that they'd won pulled him under before he knew it. Things were far from over, but the immediate threat of death was not hanging over their heads.

He blinked his eyes open to see Damen had shifted a little since Laurent closed his eyes last, but he was sleeping. Paschal said he would live. 

He would live. 

They were going to _live_. 

It still seemed impossible.

Laurent lifted a hand to touch his chest, above the bandage around his torso, then thought better of waking him and rolled carefully out of bed instead. For a moment, all he could do was stare down at Damen, taking in broad shoulders, warm brown skin, the tousle of his hair and the serene expression on his face that came from sleep. Relief and hope made Laurent's chest hurt, but he finally forced himself to head toward the door.

He had something to do, anyway. He knew Nikandros was on high alert, and would not let anything happen to Damen while Laurent was gone. Or while Laurent was there. Or really at all, regardless of Laurent's proximity.

He liked Nikandros.

Nikandros would probably never know it.

Pinching the bridge of his nose at a headache forming, he cast one last look at Damen, then went to bathe and change. The bath helped, and really, there would never be a headache to rival the one felt after a night of griva and rough shoulder slaps from Makedon. If there was, he hoped the earth would open up and swallow him next time.

When he got to the doors of the chamber he was later directed to, he was dressed in proper Veretian attire once more, and felt in control under his layers and laces. To face this, he needed every ounce of control he still had. The guards at the door only nodded and let him in, and Laurent walked into the room, his heart hammering, though his outward demeanor remained calm.

He paused not too far into the the room, however, and took in the disarray. He took in the bowls and dishes scattered across the floor, the food they'd been holding with them. A water jug overturned. Various other small objects were on the floor, clearly not their intended place. The bed across the room was a jumble of fabric, but it rose and fell slightly from the breathing of the small boy under them.

Laurent walked deeper inside, sidestepping strewn objects, until he was standing just a few feet from the bottom of the bed. "They tell me your name is Hewelin."

The mess of sheets and blankets jumped, and then a boy's head came up from under it. Messy brown hair stuck out at angles, and brown eyes blinked a few times before they narrowed violently. "The clothes you were in yesterday were more fitting." The boy looked like if he were closer, he might spit at Laurent. "The chains too." Clearly, Laurent's uncle had already turned the boy against him before they'd even met. Before he'd even seen the boy sitting at his uncle's side at his mockery of a trial.

"It's late in the morning. Are you hungry?" he asked, glancing back at the food scattered on the floor for a moment before looking back at the child, utterly indifferent to the boy's words. "Since you've chosen to behave like an animal, I _should_ make you get on your hands and knees and eat from the floor," he said coolly, "I am your king now." Or at least he would be soon. He watched Hewelin blanche at the suggestion. "But I'm not going to make you do that. I'm not going to make you do anything. I'm going to have breakfast."

He turned and went back to the door, telling the guards to send servants to clean the mess and bring more food, then walked over to the table. He retrieved a book from the floor on his way, then arranged himself on the long bench against the wall, legs crossed, one arm draped over the back of the bench, his other hand propping the book open on his knee. Then he read. And waited.

And waited.

Children were unpredictable. It was part of what Laurent liked in them. He could feel brown eyes on him as servants cleaned the room and replaced the food and water on the table. He saw Hewelin move to the foot of the bed as he put his book down and started to take some food for himself, though he didn't lift his gaze to the boy.

"He was a good man. You killed him." The small voice broke slightly, and Laurent suppressed a frown.

"No." He filled a cup with water for himself. "My men killed him while I watched. His body is on the gate and his head is on a pike outside; I'll take you to see it sometime." He didn't bother telling Hewelin his uncle wasn't a good man. They never listened. Just as Nicaise hadn't listened when Laurent had tried to warn him he was running out of time in his uncle's favor.

 _Nicaise. He was alone. I left him alone._ Laurent's back was suddenly tense. He would have made an offer for Nicaise. He had finally grown up enough to be able to do that, as he hadn't for the boys before Nicaise and after himself. He swallowed hard and pushed past the thought. Maybe he could show Hewelin what _good men_ looked like. When Damen recovered.

"You're… you're _nasty_ ," Hewelin said. 

"Is that meant to insult me?" Laurent replied.

"Why are you eating in _here_?" the boy spat.

"I like the view," Laurent lied casually. His back was to the window and he'd barely looked out before he'd sat. "And I may eat wherever I wish."

He saw Hewelin start to cross the room to the table, quickly, as if spurred forward by emotion. Laurent picked up a cup, filled it with water and placed it on the opposite side of the table from him just as Hewelin reached that spot. Hewelin stopped dead, staring at it with wide eyes, and Laurent knew his suspicions were right.

His uncle's preference in hair color had changed in recent years, but in Hewelin's expression, he could see the routine hadn't changed since he had been in Hewelin's shoes. When uncle was finished, you got a towel. You cleaned him and yourself up. _You poured him a cup water._

 _I know,_ he thought.

Hewelin sucked in a breath like he might cry, but then snatched the cup of water and flung its contents in Laurent's face. Laurent flinched automatically, and a surge of anger rushed through him. He went rigid, tightly coiled, eyes closed where his lashes now dripped water. He clamped down on the emotion hard. 

Harder.

_He's a child. He's a child. My uncle has done this to him. As he did to me. As he did to Nicaise._

By the time he slanted his eyes open enough to find the napkin on the table, the anger was flooding away. He dabbed the wetness from his face and looked at the boy, who seemed frozen now, the cup still clutched in an upraised hand. 

Laurent had a template for how to treat kids. It was Auguste. In this moment, he could not be Auguste. He said, "Is that all you've got?"

His stomach dropped as Hewelin's eyes flooded suddenly with tears, his chin beginning to quiver. He dropped the cup to the floor, his expression awful, and covered his face with his hands as a wracking sob shook him. 

Hewelin had not been with his uncle long enough to be trained not to cry. Maybe that meant there was still hope for him. But watching it hurt. Laurent's chest threatened to cave in on itself. He forced himself to watch. Forced his gaze to say, _'I know,'_ when Hewelin dared to peek at him.

"Pick it up. Sit and eat," he said, his words instructive, not an order, and Hewelin must have been hungry, because after regaining some of his breath, he did exactly what Laurent asked.

He froze as Laurent filled his cup again, but Laurent went back to eating without acknowledging it. Eventually, Hewelin started to eat, nibbling his food in small bites in between the little hiccups that had resulted from his tears. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks every once in a while. Laurent was acutely aware of it, though he did not acknowledge that either.

They ate, painfully, in silence. When Laurent was done, he finally looked up at Hewelin again. "Do you want to learn a coin trick?"

The boy looked at him with red-rimmed eyes as if he'd rather die than do something even halfway resembling fun with Laurent.

The shrug of Laurent's shoulders was negligible. "Perhaps next time," he said. He ignored the boy's murderous look as he left the table.

He got all the way to the door before Hewelin spoke again. "Am I to serve you now as I did the Regent?" The small voice sounded as disgusted as the idea made Laurent feel, but there was fear in the words too.

Laurent swallowed the bile rising in his stomach. "No."

* * *

When he returned to Damen's room, _the king's quarters_ , he was calm again. He found Damen awake and struggling to sit up. "You… simpleton," Laurent said, then moved to the bed. He braced his hands on Damen's shoulders and pushed him back to the bed, coming to sit next to him. "You are to rest."

"I am the king, I cannot--" Damen blinked, his gaze still hazy from sleep--and maybe pain--as it made an obvious assessment of what Laurent was wearing. "It's you."

"Yes."

"I hate your clothes."

"You lack sophistication." Then, "I'm not wearing them for you." In spite of himself, Laurent's lips quirked into a small, crooked smile.

"I love your smile," Damen said, as if the words fell out of his mouth on their own, his own smile suddenly so warm Laurent felt like the earth shook under him for a moment.

His lips parted as he sucked in a breath and then unconsciously held it. He still didn't know how to respond to this sort of attention. It made him feel weak. Vulnerable. He hated it. He also loved it. "That-- _is_ for you," he finally managed.

His hand slid from Damen's shoulder to his chest, where he could feel Damen's heart beating, reassuringly strong. Damen's hand tugged his other arm down gently, and Laurent slid his other hand back to cup the back of Damen's head, his fingers moving into his hair. He knew his eyes were more open as he searched Damen's happy, tired face.

"Kiss me," Damen said, and Laurent did. 

Softly. Slowly. His body reacted in a way that was entirely unsurprising. Damen's hand slid down his chest, over his laces, toward the lacing of his pants. Laurent made a helpless noise of desire against Damen's mouth, then, rather heroically, caught Damen's wrist in his hand and pulled it away. "You mustn't get worked up."

"Too late."

Laughter bubbled up from Laurent unexpectedly, and he shifted over Damen to his uninjured side, pressing himself against it and letting his upper leg tangle with Damen's. "I'll suck your cock later," he promised. And then felt himself flush when Damen turned to him, both eyebrows lifted in surprise. He lowered his gaze, feeling a little shy, and pushed Damen's jaw to turn his head so he wasn't looking at him like that anymore.

They both fell silent for a while, their chests rising and falling with ease. Laurent pressed his face to Damen's skin. He smelled like sweat and blood and Laurent didn't care. Part of him liked it.

"If you do, try not to invite anyone in. I can't move fast enough to cover myself right now."

Laurent blinked, having gotten so lost in thought he almost forgot what he'd said that would make Damen say that. He huffed, an almost laugh, and pressed closer to Damen.

"What happens next?" he found himself asking.

Damen was quiet for a few moments before he turned his head and kissed Laurent's hair. "We rule."

"Together?"

"Together."


End file.
